From Afar
by Ron4
Summary: Whatever happened to Chloe Sullivan after graduation? Nobody remembers her, but not by choice...


From Afar  
  
I go back, every once in a while. To Metropolis, I mean. Of course, Clark Kent doesn't know. A lot has changed since I left. Clark got married. Pete Ross and Lana Lang got married to each other. Lex Luthor is now considered a "bad guy" throughout the city. And what about Chloe Sullivan? What happened to Chloe, the girl who had potential, the girl who would have been the Daily Planet's top reporter? In other words, me.  
  
Conspiracy. That's what happened to me. Oh yes, the government has conspiracies. Being the dauntless reporter that I was considered in high school, I found out about one of these little government schemes. You know another thing about the government? They have people. People that I would have considered "freaks of the week" or Wall of Weird material. One of such had the ability to erase memories.  
  
In reality, erasing memories isn't as easy as in TV and movies, like in Men in Black where they just use a silver-colored piece of spy-gear that flashes a red light into people's eyes. No, it's a much more difficult process. First, they process a concoction of chemicals and powders. Then they dry and heat the stuff until it forms a metalloid liquid. Then a two- day procedure of freezing it in a special type of freezer takes place. Now a solid, the hardened material is ground once again into powder.  
  
For one single person, a very minute amount of the powder could be administered through a food or drink, or by some other demeaning way. But what about a larger assemblage? Say, maybe, a whole state? Well, a much larger supply is produced, and planes disguised as those planes that help to diminish fires dispose it across the state. When a large quantity is dispensed, it billows out and fills cities with a smoke-like atmosphere. This powder has to be defined, of course, to erase a certain section of a person's, memory. Another of the government's secret cover-ups is a machine that can do such a thing - a machine that compacts memories into this powder. How they manage to do this, I don't know, but the results aren't good.  
  
With the state of Kansas covered in a powder which they had no explanation for, Chloe Sullivan was erased from everyone's past and present. Pictures, files, birth records, school information, anything connected to me, was destroyed. I don't know how they managed to pull that off, either. They kept me hostage in a secret headquarters in Colorado, where they had plans to kill me. By sheer luck of poorly checked locked-up chains and a languid guard, I was able to escape.  
  
That was a long time ago, not too much after graduation. I got a fake ID, dyed my hair, got colored contacts, and a few other things to try to hide myself. In the earlier years, I had to be cautious around anyone in all black clothing, sunglasses, earpiece phones, or any other suspicious looking characters. There was no doubt the government was out looking for me. Eventually, I was sure they had stopped. They and I both knew that if I ever revealed my true identity, it would get back to them and I would be caught.  
  
Now, I can't stay in the same place for too long, but I always manage to sneak back to Metropolis at least twice a year. There hasn't been a time when I haven't found Clark. He now works for the Daily Planet. He's one of the top reporters. I should be there with him, doing a job, having a life. But I'm not. So I must watch him from afar.  
  
Today, I am in Metropolis. After somewhat of a search, I find Clark. He's on his way to work. Seeing him walk towards the building, I stand on the opposite street corner and watch him. Then, for no reason at all, he turns. He looks right at me. His eyes are intent on mine, fixed in a mixture between deep thought and curiosity. As a large semi truck drives by, I hurry away to get away from him. As I hide behind a large wooden sign, I peer around the corner to see him take another quick sweep of my previous whereabouts before slowly entering into the double doors.  
  
He can't remember me, I know for a fact. The chemical had affected him. He wasn't immune to it. No, I think Clark has something inside him that still remembers me, but he doesn't know it. As I walk away from the sign, I realize that this will be the last time I will ever be able to see Clark Kent.  
  
END 


End file.
